


The Welcome Hearth

by jax (hippydeath)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-18
Updated: 2010-02-18
Packaged: 2017-10-07 08:59:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hippydeath/pseuds/jax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The apocalypse is over, and people are starting to move on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Welcome Hearth

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Picfor1000 over at LJ.

And then the apocalypse is done and they're left standing, wondering what to do. Days pass and people come and go through Bobby's, which seems to have become the post- apocalypse headquarters, muttering thanks and condolences and talking about plans for the future, and really, it's all getting out of hand.

Dean didn't do anything. Hell, Sam did most of the work, but people still seem a bit leery of him, so it's Dean's hand they want to shake with mutters of how proud his dad would be, and Dean is getting sick of it.  


* * *

Even if they would shake his hand, Sam has holed himself up in a spare room and is, when Dean can get him to open the door and talk to him, talking about going off to find himself or something.

Dean is just leaving him alone for the time being, figures Sam's a big boy and he'll work it out eventually.  


* * *

Right now, it's Friday night, or maybe Saturday morning; the sun went down hours ago but people are still hanging around or sleeping in cramped spots and Dean had to get outside before he trod on someone's head or punched them for being in his way. So it's just him and Cas, sitting on the porch, watching the stars get obscured by the few clouds floating through the sky.

Other than Sam, Castiel is the thing that people are worried about, wondering about where he fits in. He's still here and showing no real interest in leaving; definitely not human, but not really, in his own words "a part of the host" anymore and still stuck in Jimmy Novak's body and apparently indestructible trench coat.

Most of the angels cleared off when the big final battle, if it could really be called that, was over. A few stayed longer and slowly left in dribs and drabs over the next few days, and a small minority were talking about remaining permanently, or at least in the long term. They were all avoiding Cas though, or at the very least, the subject of him.

There's a crash from inside, followed by peals of laughter and the sound of people moving around. There're also a couple of annoyed sounding shouts that are met with more laughter.

Dean turns to Cas. "I need to get out of here, you coming?"

Cas tilts his head, considering, then nods. Deans huffs out a sigh of relief and ducks his head through the door. There's what was a stack of books spread over the floor and various people trying to sort them back into whatever order they were in to begin with.

"Going for a drive." He barks, not really caring if anyone pays attention, just wanting to know that he did bother telling someone.

He's almost got the door closed when one of the guys from the convention, Barnes, he thinks, yells "Pick up more milk!" and Dean rolls his eyes, thinking briefly that if he doesn't reply, maybe they won't expect him to do it, but no, they did help save the world, so the least he could do is get more groceries. And besides, Bobby will only send him out in the morning if someone doesn't do it now.

He strides over to the Impala, swinging his keys round his finger.

"Come on Cas," he says over his shoulder, although he knows Cas is already following him. "Supply run."  


* * *

The roads are empty, and with the windows rolled down and _Supernaut_ blasting from the speakers, Dean feels like this is the start of something big, something better. Taking his eyes off the road he glances at Castiel who's leaning on his arm, looking out of the window. The wind is ruffling his hair and even he seems to have lost some of the weight from his shoulders.

Neither of them says anything as Dean drives, and after an hour or so he actually turns them in the direction of an all night gas station where he can refuel the car and hopefully get some milk without having to deal with too many people who would no doubt spoil his good mood.

Inside, Dean pulls two big bottles of milk from the chilled cabinet while Castiel peruses its other contents, studying the brightly coloured packaging carefully before his attention is pulled away to one of the aisles where there are glasses and plates, made of plastic for picnics in a myriad of styles and colours. As with Sam, Dean has learned its best to leave him to it, and he goes to pay for his gas and the milk, and when he's done Castiel is back in the car, head stuck out the window staring up at the stars. Seems having nothing to worry about is making him even weirder than before.

"Penny for them?" Dean asks as they pull out of the station, leaving the music down quieter now.

Castiel turns his head to look at Dean. "Domesticity." He says, "I was thinking about domesticity, and glasses, and I think, painting walls."

"Seriously?" Dean pulls a face and Castiel nods.

"More to the point, a sort of haven for hunters. There are still things out there that need hunting, but the apocalypse, and the necessity of Bobby, has shown that you can work together, that you work better with some kind of support. And hunters will always be running out of milk."

Dean nods to that, grinning, "And you were thinking you could run something like that?"

"It would be hard, but with the internet for communication, and perhaps the help of some of my brothers and sisters who are to remain, it could work."

Dean smiles. "You've really been thinking about this for a while?" He chances a glance at Castiel who smiles and nods. "And how were you going to set it up? Takes a human touch to do things like that."

Castiel shrugs, and then looks back at Dean. "With your help, I was hoping."


End file.
